


Taking Initiative

by Laurasauras



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas Smut, Incest, M/M, Mutual Pining, Overstimulation, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 18:00:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: Bro has picked up on the fact that Dave's taste in guys is an awful lot like him, but he's still not acting on it and things are tense. Dave has to make the first move.





	Taking Initiative

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secondhandact](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhandact/gifts).



> Stridercest Secret Santa gift for second-hand-act! Hope you like it! :)

Bro's been in the shower for … like a while. Which is exactly the opposite of news, he's stingy in a lot of areas, but long showers are a thing that he's always made a priority, even when he used to drag you to the dollar-entry pool to use theirs because the electricity got turned off at home. You don't hurt for money anymore, not since Bro actually started marketing his niche porn properly. Apparently the weirder the porn, the better it pays. And his is weird. So it comfortably pays for afternoon long showers. 

Growing up around that, it isn't exactly surprising that when you started trying to date around you had a bit of a type. Namely asshole guys who could throw you across the room if they wanted. Preferably blond and with a stoicism that made the rare moments of affection even better. Preferably with a massive dick. None of them measured up.

And it shouldn't have been surprising (but it kinda was) when Bro caught onto it. You vividly remember him standing on the opposite side of the kitchen to a guy who could have been him but ten years younger, both of them with their arms crossed across their chests and exchanging forced and very short small-talk. And Bro had looked at you and your stomach did some crazy thing that wasn't quite fear-based because he knew.

He knew, and you had no idea what he was thinking behind the layers that made up his unfathomableness; behind his shades, his poker face, his layers and layers of irony.

It's taken you weeks to actually act. He knows. He knows. You've decided that it can't get worse. It can't get worse than fucking his look-a-likes who just left you aching even worse for the real thing and then walking around on eggshells waiting for Bro to call you out on it. You just want it out in the open.

And now it’s Christmas Eve and you’re taking the advice that every tacky Christmas romcom has thrown at you because if there’s a time to do it, it’s Christmas time. When you’re supposed to be honest and when love is just a bit stronger than usual. You _cannot_ let Bro know that you ever thought anything that embarrassing, but it’s as good a reason as any to get your ass into gear. 

If Bro has taught you anything in your life, it's that anything worth doing is worth doing with confidence, as if the possibility of anything blowing up in your face is so remote you hadn't even considered it, with dick out levels of owning this shit.

Which is why you're really glad that Bro's showers take so long because it means that you've got plenty of time to freak out on this side of the bathroom door before you make your move. You lean your forehead on the door as you try to psych yourself up. You feel like you did the first time you jumped from the roof onto the next building. Bro didn't rush you, just waited for you, inscrutable as always. You knew you just had to fucking commit then, too. You'd jumped that distance before without the terrifying height, you knew would be safe so long as you went for it, full-speed.

Just like now. Probably. And this time you won't literally die if you fail. You'll just have to hit the road earlier than you thought. (Unless Bro kills you. He wouldn't do that. That's a really dumb thought to have.) But you're not going to fail.

You can't think anymore, you're ready, or you're your version of ready. You think Bro's version of ready means real confidence, but yours is good enough. Full of self doubt and your heart beating hot and thick in your throat, you open the door.

The whoosh of the shower is louder now, and it fills your ears like white noise. You can hear the subtle change in sound where it hits Bro's body instead of the floor, even if you can't hear him at all. You've never interrupted him in the shower before, not even when you were tiny. That was his time, his space. You're stepping past his boundaries in so many ways, that one shouldn't even register, but it does because it's almost two decades in the making and it's hard to shift.

You pull your shirt off and shove your jeans and boxers down in one as if speed is an acceptable replacement for confidence. There is absolutely no change in the sound, as if Bro is standing perfectly still behind the shower curtain. Based on the subtle silhouette you can see, he probably is.

You don't even give yourself time to take a deep breath or anything as revealing as that, you just pull the curtain back enough for you to step into the tub.

His face is carefully blank even though he's not wearing his shades. Because duh, shower. You smirk at your own idiocy and chuck yours into your bundle of clothes before turning back to him. If he wasn't always so careful about his expression, you wouldn't have learned to read the most minute changes in it. You're not entirely sure what the tension you see in him means, but you're not about to wait around to analyse shit. You're acting, not thinking. You're speaking his language.

You step closer to him, so that you're under the spray of water too. It's too hot compared to the mild air, but you aren't going to flinch. You're almost touching him, but not quite. If you shifted your weight from one leg to another, you'd probably brush against him. You're not going to make your first touch accidental.

You reach up and grab him firmly by the nape of his neck and pull him down to you. He doesn't resist at all as your lips meet. For a moment it's not just that he's not resisting, he's not reacting at all, and that's almost enough of a rejection to make you run away. But then his warm hands land on your waist and he pulls you closer to press against him as he responds to the kiss.

You groan, you can't help it. First kisses shouldn't be this perfect but it's fucking amazing. You know him, somehow know how he's going to move and react like it's the most natural thing in the world. You have no idea whether he's been wrestling with this as much as you, but he's clearly made the same decision to embrace it now.

He grabs you firmer and then turns and pushes you into the tiled wall. You hiss at the sudden cold on your back and he doesn't give you room to adjust before he's pressing his leg between yours and holding your head steady so he can kiss you again. He's inescapable, he's everywhere, and you've never been so turned on in your life.

He pushes your head roughly to the side so that he can kiss at your neck and the contrast between being man-handled and the soft kisses makes you grind against his leg shamelessly. He lets your jaw go and drags his fingers down your side before grabbing your hip and shoving it firmly into the wall. You swallow and let out a shuddery breath.

'Bro …' you say.

He bites you on your shoulder and you struggle to repress a moan. It's at least quiet, the bite was a pretty clear command to shut up. Bro licks over the bite mark before raising his head to look you in the eye.

'You like it rough,' he says.

You nod.

'You let those other assholes use you like you think I would.'

You nod again, not really sure it's a question. Bro's eyes narrow in a rare display of anger.

'No,' he says.

You're not sure what he's forbidding you from, whether it's your tendency to use fights as foreplay or from other guys or from thinking of him like that, but whatever it is, he's firm on it and you don't dare press him for more information.

For a heart-stopping moment you think he's angry enough to leave you in the shower, but instead he just holds your shoulders in place and stares at you. When he's done thinking or whatever it is that he's doing, he pushes your shoulder once more. That message is clear enough, too. You shift your feet so they're a bit more steady and stay put.

He lets you go and uses his newly free hands to push your damp hair back out of your face before cradling your jaw gently and kissing you again, this time a lot sweeter. It's no less intense or possessive, for all that he's licking and guiding instead of sucking and biting. You're waiting for the drop with no idea when it's coming and the tension only builds when he releases your mouth in favour of your neck again.

He somehow feels even more imposing when he's standing so close to you and bending down to reach the parts he wants to kiss. He's not giving up even an inch of space in order to make that easier, his leg is still firmly between your own and the occasional friction is maddening, especially when you don't dare grind against him like you want to. His dick is hard against you too but he seems unconcerned with that as he kisses a slow path to your nipple.

Your nipples have been hard and sensitive since he first pushed you into the cold tiles but as he takes one in between his teeth and slowly increases the pressure, you can't help but groan. He doesn't stop you this time, and moves his hand over your chest to pinch at your other nipple. You pant and press your hands into the wall in an effort to keep from moving but your legs still shake a bit.

You almost don't notice when he sinks to his knees because his hands are distracting the hell out of you.

'Bro, what—?' you say.

He slaps you on the thigh.

'Do _not_ give our neighbours a reason to take me away,' he says, looking up at you to meet your eyes. Even on his knees he's still has a very commanding presence.

You flush with embarrassment over your stupidity. You're not even close to done with processing the implications of what he's said before he's breaking eye contact to stare at your dick. He takes hold of it and guides it into his mouth with zero hesitation, his lips gliding smoothly over your wet skin.

'Fuck,' you hiss.

He pulls off you until he only has the tip of your dick between his lips and he meets your eyes again. He sucks at your head with slow, easy movements, flicking his tongue against your slit on every upwards stroke before bobbing down again in these tiny, tiny circles.

'Jesus fucking christ,' you gasp.

He pauses with his lips just kissing your head to smirk at you before his eyes flick back down. That's all the warning you get before he takes you deep enough that you can feel your dick hit the back of his throat.

Your hand, which you were keeping obediently pressed to the tile, moves to Bro's hair almost without your permission. You thread your fingers through his wet hair before he grabs your wrist and stops you. He shakes your hand to release his hair and then pushes your wrist back into the wall, grabbing your other wrist as well.

You barely stop your hips from bucking. You really fucking like being pinned down. Not that you've had it like this before. You could count the number of times someone's gone down on your submissive self on one hand.

Bro bobs his mouth up and down several more times, each time hitting the back of his throat, before he pushes down somehow deeper, somehow past that threshold, and takes you all the way inside his mouth.

You make a strangled whine and scrabble at the smooth tile, some instinct telling you that burying your fingers into something will make it better.

Bro looks up at you again and your stomach swoops with intensity. He drops his lazily half-lidded eyes back to his work as he continues to move to some silent rhythm, just as graceful as he is when he dances subtly as he mixes or when he moves through a kata, unburdened by your clumsy attacks and blocks, making the held positions look easy. He's making this look easy as well, even though it can't be.

He's gonna make you come. You can't hold it off any longer under this kind of attention.

'Fuck,' you say. You bite back the urge to say his name again, something that feels pretty fucking familiar given how long you've been wanting this, even if you thought your positions would be reversed. 'Mmm, god, fuck, Br—, gonna …'

He tightens his grip on your wrist and speeds up, as if you've challenged him in some way. You hang your head helplessly as you come. He swallows around you as you flinch through your climax. He rocks back onto his heels and lets your wrists go so he can stand again.

'How do you want …' you ask, gesturing at his still hard dick.

Bro drops his gaze to your body as if appraising it. You shiver as if it's a physical thing you can feel.

'Not in the shower,' he says.

With that, he runs a hand through his hair and steps out. You step under the water properly and wash the sweat and spit from your body. You feel like if you stop to appreciate how fucking well your gamble paid off then you'll be out of action for some premium freak out time. So instead you just finish up as quickly as possible and follow him out.

He's not in the bathroom when you get out, so you tie a towel around your waist and walk out into the hallway. You make it about two steps before Bro flashsteps into you, crushing you into the wall.

'You do this on purpose, don't you?' he growls. 'Drives me crazy every fucking time.'

You have no idea what he's talking about, and even though you can't quite tell if he's legitimately pissed or not, you can feel his dick against your hip, hard through the denim of his jeans.

'What?' you whisper.

Instead of answering, he pulls the towel away from you and grabs you by the ass. You feel a sudden thrill at the thought that all your confusing interactions with him will have this edge of possibility to them now. For the first time in your life, you hope you’ve made him mad. You want to see how he takes it out on you now.

'My bed,' he commands.

It's a few seconds before he lets you go enough so that you can follow his instruction, and then you're forcing yourself to walk at a normal pace to get to his bedroom. He follows, close but not touching you. When you open his bedroom door and step inside, he puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes you gently onto the bed. He strips his clothes off, and you'd wonder why he put them back on to begin with if you weren't too busy admiring how his muscles shift under his skin as he undresses.

He kneels on the bed and drags his hand over your body slowly, as if he's mapping it out in his head.

'Turn over,' he says.

You roll onto your stomach and spread your legs subtly. He grabs your ass with both hands, which makes you pretty sure you've read the situation right. You feel your dick start to swell again against the soft sheets as he runs his thumbs from the inside of your thighs upwards, spreading you teasingly. You might have a lot of imagination when it comes to imagining the many various ways you want your bro, but this is pretty high up on the list. You part your legs a little more and resist the urge to thrust into the mattress like the horny bastard you are.

He takes a hand away and then you hear the unmistakable sound of a lid capping off. A moment later you're flinching against the feeling of lube dripping down your crack messily.

He presses two fingers to your hole and starts to gently massage your rim. You relax despite your excitement, mostly out of habit. He takes his time playing with you before he dips a finger inside you and you groan into your forearm.

'You like taking it?' he murmurs.

'Take a wild fucking guess,' you say, pushing back against him a little. The extra stretch feels amazing, but he goes back to teasingly shallow movements far too quickly and you let your hips fall back onto the bed.

He thumbs at your taint with his other hand while he slowly gives you more of his finger. You feel the promise of pressure against your prostate, but he's being too gentle for it to be properly satisfying. This is not the problem you thought you would have with Bro.

'More,' you moan.

You hear him laugh under his breath as he keeps touching you just as slowly and gently as before.

'You gonna beg for it?' he asks.

You bite your lip against the automatic impulse to do whatever Bro even vaguely suggests that you do. He buries that one slow finger as deep inside you as it will go and you go weak against the sheets. He pumps it with small movements, keeping it deep, and then pulls back and you whine.

'If y'ask nicely, I'll give you more.'

You clench the sheets in your fists as you try to resist. You want it so bad, you want his dick, not just this teasing, but he's still your bro. He'll still give you so much shit for begging like some kind of pillow princess. Jesus, you're really not doing a lot of reciprocating here.

He gives you the tip of a second finger, but holds it still, just the promise of a deeper stretch as he moves his first one. Fuck.

'Please,' you whisper.

He laughs again. He's the actual worst.

'Please what?' he says, slowly twisting his fingers.

'Please, Bro,' you whisper. 'Please fucking give it to me, please, I'll do anything, just fuck me, please.'

He shifts closer and you feel his dick press against your thigh. He gives you his second finger properly and you moan gratefully.

'You're so noisy,' Bro says, the thumb on your taint disappearing for a moment as he pours more lube onto you. 'D'you have any idea how noisy you are?'

You bite back a whine as he gives you a third finger, the extra lube making it slip in easily.

'We share this wall,' he says, dropping the lube and reaching across the bed to knock on the wall. 'I shoulda fuckin' moved my bed. Thought about it. Thought about using one of my fuckin' abundant pairs of headphones, too.'

He changes the angle of his fingers and pumps them into you faster than he's done so far, a steady rate that makes you want to lift your hips up for him and press your dick into the mattress all at the same time. You whine helplessly.

'Yeah, like that,' he says. 'That noise kills me. I think it's my favourite one. And I fucking hate hearing you make it for the scumbags you bring home. You challengin' me all this time? 'Cause I know I can do better. Thought about it a lot, listenin'. Fucking my hand instead of you and I knew exactly what I'd do to make you make all those pretty noises just for me.'

You gasp desperately, trying to focus on his words as he takes you apart with his fingers. He presses down on your taint at the same time as he finds your prostate inside you and you cry out way too loud.

'That one's new,' he says, his voice smug. 'How ya feelin'?'

You groan wordlessly in some kind of answer.

'You ready for me now?'

'Yes,' you gasp. 'Yes, please, god, fuck, please Br—' you stop yourself just barely from saying his name by turning it into a moan. He doesn't laugh this time, he just slowly takes his fingers out of your ass. You make some attempt to catch your breath as he slips on a condom and coats himself with lube.

A moment later he falls onto the bed next to you and you take advantage of his mouth being in kissing range again by practically climbing on top of him. He makes a small noise into your mouth and you flush with victory and hook your leg over his, pressing your thigh up close and personal with his junk.

'Climb on cowboy,' he says, completely deadpan. You narrowly avoid laughing, but your mouth twitches into a traitorous smile. You're not used to Bro-style attacks of the poker face while your brain is marinating in horniness soup. Thankfully losing to Bro has gotten a lot less stressful since he started losing to you too. And since you learned how to actually punch him back every now and then.

You get your face under control and do as he says, sitting up and swinging your leg dramatically over his body as if you're climbing onto a saddle.

'Giddy up,' you say calmly.

Bro's laugh turns into a moan as you sink down onto his dick. Your stomach swoops with victory at two reactions in a row before you realise that if you count sex noises then you are well and truly losing. You still manage to keep somewhat quiet as you watch Bro's face transform in arousal.

He grabs your ass with slightly sticky fingers when he's maybe halfway deep in you.

'Don't … feel you have to,' he says. You raise an eyebrow at him. 'Take it all,' he elaborates.

You smirk at him.

'You're big,' you concede, as if it doesn't really concern you, 'but you're also a tease. I'm pretty fuckin' ready.'

Bro's eyes narrow slightly until you press him deeper into you and all tension seems to melt out of him. You lift your hips and then drop them again and his eyes meet yours with a desperate intensity, a tiny furrow between his brows. You love this look on him.

He grabs your hand where it's digging into your thigh and laces your fingers together. You try to think of something stupid to say to ease the strange tension that the almost romantic gesture has put into you (you're having sex and you can't handle holding hands, what kind of idiot are you?) but your mind is blank.

Your eye contact feels loaded now. You lick your lips and rock back a bit more, eyes closing on reflex at the overwhelming feeling of him inside you.

'Fuck, Dave,' he breathes.

You'd snark at him about names but hearing him say yours in that tone gives you shivers. You want to hear him say more, to hear all his reactions. You want to record them, set them to music, play it back for him. You rock against him again, taking him deeper, bracing the hand that isn't gripping his against his chest.

You finally get him all the way in you and he holds your hip steady as you both adjust. He looks like he needs it as much as you do.

'How ya feelin'?' you ask, imitating his drawl.

He forces his eyes open with what looks like effort and smirks at you.

'It's been a while,' he says dryly.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The idea of Bro not being able to get laid if he wanted it is just ridiculous. He's so hot. Yeah, he's an asshole who believes in conspiracies and likes puppets too much for comfort, but underneath that is a really weird sense of humour that _oh now you get it_. He's your type, but that's a pretty niche market. Good. Maybe he won't get tired of you if you don't have competition.

You lean forward so you can kiss him and he moans into your lips. The movement shifts him inside you and reminds you of how much you want to feel it, feel it properly. You grind against him subtly as you kiss, feeling how even the smallest movements make him gasp and freeze and taking advantage of that. You're in control now, it's you leading and his tongue following. You're feeling almost high on the thrill of dominating Bro of all people.

He runs his hands down your back like he wants to press his fingers through your skin and inside you until they get to your ass. With your hole already stretched and sensitive, the pressure feels amazing and makes you grind firmer against him, pushing him impossibly deeper.

He spreads your cheeks and pushes them together as you move, and it shoots feelings through your nerves. You pull away from his lips, gasping, and brace your forehead on his shoulder as you focus on moving with more determined thrusts of your hips.

'Fuck,' he moans. 'Keep going, more ...'

You push yourself up onto your arms and meet his eyes challengingly. You can do more.

You pump your hips almost like you're the one fucking him, hard and fast. The movement puts an intense rolling pressure on your balls and you're starting to feel that warm tingly feeling of impending orgasm right down to your toes. Bro is looking pretty wrecked, all tension in his neck and face, but you don't think he's there yet, you've got to get him to come first.

You force yourself to sit upright again and brace your hand on his thigh. You lift your hips and drop them, driving his dick deep inside you with every thrust. You're panting with effort but you're doing better than Bro.

He's brought his hand to his mouth and is holding his thumb in between his teeth, but it's not quite holding back the rhythmic groans that escape with every movement you make. His eyes are scrunched closed and he's glistening with sweat. His obvious arousal is only making you move more desperately. You want to see him fall apart

Your legs are starting to burn with fatigue but you can't stop, the knowledge that you can't keep this up if anything makes you move faster. He has to be close, he has to, you need him to finish first.

He's big, so big that you've felt that irresistible pressure on your prostate almost from the start but as you lean back (initially because you're getting fucking tired) you feel like he's crushing it into you and you don't dare touch your dick even though it's so heavy with the threat of orgasm.

You feel Bro's hand on your thigh, moving upwards.

'Careful,' you breathe. 'Fuck, Bro, no, fuck!'

His thumb barely grazes the base of your dick but it's too much, you're coming. He takes this to mean he can grab your dick properly, working you through it with long strokes as he pulls your body closer to him.

You fall onto his chest and he grips you by around the shoulders and rolls. You feel heavy and weightless all at the same time as he moves you like you're nothing but your legs fall to the mattress like they're dead weights.

His dick slides almost all the way out of you as he shifts, kneeling low between your legs.

'You're adorable,' he says, leaning over you to kiss the corner of your mouth. You turn into it, make it a proper kiss and feel him smile.

He pushes deep inside you, bracing his hand on your hip, holding you up. You groan, oversensitive, and he kisses you again.

'Bro,' you murmur.

'I got you,' he says. 'Got you, Davey.'

He thrusts again and your toes curl automatically. It's so much, you want to shrink away from the sensitivity but you can't. You feel electric all through your body as he moves and grip your hair desperately to stop from screaming. You can't help the whine that comes out.

Your brain finally comes back to roost in your skull where it belongs and you move your legs so that your heels are pressed into the mattress, trying to lift your hips and get a bit of relief.

He groans and braces you up, speeding up. You can't even tell if you're getting hard again, everything just feels so much.

'Bro, please,' you moan.

He drops your hip and leans over you, slapping his hand over your mouth and kissing your neck in one movement. Shit. You were supposed to be quiet. You groan into his hand, relieved that he's taking it out of your hands.

The angle means that he's stuck with a shallow range of movement, but he goes at it hard and fast. You wrap your legs around his hips and breathe heavily through your nose.

He bites at your earlobe, then your neck, sucking at your skin hard enough that you're sure you'll have a mark. The thought sends a swoop of arousal through you and that seems to be the tipping point where you go from is _this too much_ to _I need more_ and you clench your legs around Bro tighter.

You can't speak with his hand pressed against your lips so you can't beg him to touch you again. You buck your hips instead, trying to meet his thrusts and grind your dick against his abs at the same time.

‘Fuck, kid,’ he moans. ‘How many times can I get you off?’

You whine desperately. Your movements are so fucking sloppy, your muscles are aching and you don’t know how much more of this you can take. You want to come again, but you already feel like you’re running on empty and if Bro decides he’s going to see how far he can take you then you have no doubt he’ll take you pretty fucking far. You want to beg, but your mouth is covered, so you try to show how much you want it with your eyes. You dig your heels into his back and try to fight back against the tension that means he’s going to make you come again, but you’re overwhelmed as shit and there isn’t much you can do about it.

Bro holds your hip still with the hand that isn’t over your mouth, fingers teasingly close to your dick, and starts fucking you harder and faster. You stop trying to move with him, your body opting to relax almost scarily fast and watch as Bro’s eyes travel up your body. Where his gaze lingers you feel as though he’s setting you on fire until he’s holding eye contact with you like a weapon and you’ve never felt this intense before in your life. 

He closes his eyes and grips you harder when he comes, and it looks involuntary. He breathes heavily as he takes his hand away from your mouth to prop himself up, his elbow no longer good enough. 

The second your mouth is free, you start babbling.

‘Fuck, please, I’m so fucking close, _please_ , God,’ you moan. 

He looks at you with a mixture between wonder and smugness and rocks his hips slowly. His still hard dick presses deep in you again and you groan wordlessly. You reach down to jerk yourself off but he catches your hands and pins them above your head instead.

‘You’re fun,’ he tells you. You hate him almost as much as you love him.

‘Bro,’ you whisper. ‘ _Please_.’

He gives you a wicked grin and rocks into you again. He’s not as hard now, and you’re desperate to get off while he’s still inside you.

Finally, he takes pity on you and releases your hands so he can hold himself up as he fucks you and strokes you. You gasp in breath at the sudden increase in sensation and stare at him. He’s wearing the same expression he gets when he’s working on something important, and it’s the realisation that he’s trying to clinically take you apart that tips you over the edge, coming with a strangled scream that you can’t even try to suppress. 

Bro pulls out of you while you’re still coming down and shoves your legs to the side so that he can collapse on the bed.

‘I am _not_ 19 anymore,’ he says. ‘I can’t even remember the last time I came three times even over a whole night, holy shit, Dave.’

You work on catching your breath, unsure as to whether you’re allowed to cuddle up close to him or not. Some dudes don’t like that. You also have no idea how you’re supposed to talk to him now. You hadn’t really thought past the anxiety of whether he’d accept or reject your advances. 

‘So, couldn’t think of a Christmas present?’ Bro says, voice casual as he stares pointedly at the roof.

‘Bit more than that,’ you say. ‘If I wasn’t in love with you before that—’

‘Love,’ Bro repeats.

‘Problem?’

‘Yeah, don’t tell someone you love them while you’ve still got spunk on your belly. Shit, who raised you.’

You snort with amusement and turn your head, looking to see if he has tissues somewhere close. He grabs your chin and pulls you back to face him. 

‘Gimme a sec to catch up. My heart, like my dick, is also no longer 19.’

‘Okay,’ you say. 

You try and move away again but he holds you firm. And then leans in to kiss you gently, romantically. Your heart aches as you kiss him back, full of a love you’ve been carrying around with you for years now. 

‘Merry Christmas,’ you say. 

The corner of his mouth twitches up. His eyes look softer than usual. You feel hopeful.

‘Merry Christmas, Davey,’ he says.


End file.
